Good Morning Britain

Jock`s got a vote in ParochiaTen long years and he`s still got herPaying tax and doing stirWorry about it laterAnd the wind blows hard and the wind blows coldBut it blows us good so we`ve been toldMusic`s food `till the art-biz foldsLet them all eat culture

The past is steeped in shameBut tomorrows fair gameFor a life that`s fit for livingGood morning Britain

Twenty years and a loaded gunFunerals fear and the war ain`t wonPaddy`s still a figure of funIt lightens up the dangerAnd a corporal snears at a catholic byAnd he eyes his gun like a rich mans toyHe`s killing more than celtic joyDeath is not a strangerTaffy`s time`s gonna come one dayIt`s a loud sweet voice and it won`t give wayA house is not a holidayYour sons are leaving home NeilIn the hills and the valleys and far awayYou can hear the song of democracyThe echo of eternityWith a rak-a-rak-a feel

The past is steeped in shameBut tomorrows fair gameFor a life that`s fit for livingGood morning Britain

From the Tyne to where the Thames does flowMy English brothers and sisters knowIt`s not a case of where you goIt`s race and greed and colourFrom the police cell to the deep dark graveOn the underground`s just a stop awayDon`t be too black don`t be too gayJust get a little dullerBut in this green and pleasant landWhere I made my home I`ll make my standMake it cool just to be a manA uniforms a traitorLove is internationalAnd if you stand or if you fallJust let them know you gave your allWorry about it later

The past is steeped in shameBut tomorrows fair gameFor a life that`s fit for livingGood morning BritainThe past is steeped in shameBut tomorrows fair gameFor a life that`s fit for livingGood morning Britain